


flowers bloom

by SteveTrevorsStarship



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: D.E.O., F/M, I sorta mixed some Smallville season 11 in there, My love for dogs, PTSD-mentioned, Soulmark AU, Steve is a dog person, Try and tell me otherwise, especially german shepherds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 00:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18884338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveTrevorsStarship/pseuds/SteveTrevorsStarship
Summary: “I have a soulmate, then?”Hippolyta nodded.(What she didn’t tell her:The Amazons do not get soulmarks as mankind does. Only those whose soulmates belonged to the world of man did. In addition, the color of the mark is the color that you see most when you lose your soulmate. Diana’s are not the color of blood, but rather the color of fire and rage and when her soulmate dies, the marks of their last injury will remain scarred on Diana’s skin in this color forever.Alternatively, what she didn’t know:Somewhere in the world, Steven Rockwell Trevor, age 6, went down to a creek in Iowa with some friends and played a childish game of Cowboys and Indians. He fell into the creek and his leg hit a sharp rock. He did not cry as he pulled his bloody leg back to his house, only looked at his parents with startling blue eyes and asked, “When can I go play again?”)





	flowers bloom

_ Love is like war: easy to begin but very hard to stop.  _

_ – H.L. Mencken  _

_ (In this case, it makes sense that it takes the end of love to stop a war.)  _

Diana was many, many years into her training when it first happened. 

An explosion of red and orange appeared just below her knee. Epione, Themyscira’s healer, originally thought it to be a rash. The theory was proven wrong as, after several days, the “rash” failed to disappear with several ointments and herbal treatments. 

Epione and Hippolyta exchanged nervous glances and hushed conversations throughout the ordeal. Diana, focusing on combat, dismissed it and left them to their secrecy. 

It wasn’t until after it disappeared that they finally told her. 

“Diana,” Hippolyta had said carefully, “that rash you had– it was not a rash.”

Diana furrowed her brow. “I confess that I am not sure what it is, in that case.”

The Queen hesitated for a moment. “Aphrodite blessed mankind with a chance for eternal love and companionship when Zeus created them. They are called soulmates and are identified by the marks that appear on their partner’s skin when they are injured.” 

“I have a soulmate, then?” 

Hippolyta nodded. 

(What she didn’t tell her:

The Amazons do not get soulmarks as mankind does. Only those whose soulmates belonged to the world of man did. In addition, the color of the marks are the color that you see most when you lose your soulmate. Diana’s are not the color of blood, but rather the color of fire and rage and when her soulmate dies, the marks of their last injury will remain scarred on Diana’s skin in this color forever.

Alternatively, what she didn’t know:

Somewhere in the world, Steven Rockwell Trevor, age 6, went down to a creek in Iowa with some friends and played a childish game of Cowboys and Indians. He fell into the creek and his leg hit a sharp rock. He did not cry as he pulled his bloody leg back to his house, only looked at his parents with startling blue eyes and asked, “When can I go play again?”) 

* * *

Steve hadn’t had a soulmark on him in his entire life.

In a way, it was a relief. He didn’t have the chance to find someone and lose them. When the Great War started, he was even more grateful. He’d rather not break anybody’s heart when he goes off to fight, anyway.

His father died when Steve was twelve. Their mother never told him and his sister how and never showed them the white discoloration on the tan skin of her back. Steve took only one thing from the weary look on his mother’s face when she got up in the morning without the love of her life: soulmates weren’t worth it. 

He still had romantic interests. They were always fleeting and never serious, though. While the most used break-up line was, “I found my soulmate,” another common one was, “Why in God’s name are you so  _ cynical  _ about everything?” 

His mother asked about his soulmate once when he was twenty. “Those soulmarks show up yet?” She’d always been hush-hush about it and careful not to pry, but Steve could see the glittering pride hidden beneath her world-weary blue eyes. 

“No,” he said, ignoring the crestfallen look on her face. After a moment, she nodded, looking grim. 

“That’s alright. Makes things easier anyway.” 

“Yes,” Steve had said simply. They both went back to the task of eating dinner in silence. She never asked him about it again. 

When his sister found and married her soulmate he smiled and congratulated her. 

When his sister lost her soulmate to the war, he sent her an apologetic letter and meaningless prayers. He never went back to America to talk to her, never had the time (he was in the middle of a war and even though she lost her entire world, he was still trying to make sure he didn’t lose himself in the blood of his comrades). 

He ignored the sympathetic looks from other soldiers, pilots, spies. “If you don’t have a soulmate, son, what are you fighting for?” He’d had to think about that question, given to him by a superior officer. “Humanity, I think. Maybe somebody else’s chance at a life full of love.”

Steve truly thought that the mission in the Ottoman Empire would be his last when his plane started going down. Out of all the things he was terrified of, though, his biggest fear was that he had not left his mark on the world; the book was probably going to get destroyed along with the millions of lives on the line and he didn’t even have a burst of color to leave behind on his soulmate. 

He was more comfortable with the latter fear. He’d gotten used to it and at least he could tell himself that it was less pain on everybody else’s part (there was already enough of that going around). 

Steve thought he was going to leave the world like dust in the wind, blowing away into the depths of the sea.

He was wrong. 

* * *

“You’re a man,” she said, dark hair cascading her shoulders, water droplets clinging onto her as hard as he was clinging onto life.  

“I mean, yeah. Do I not- do I not look like one?

* * *

“My uh,” he cleared his throat, looking at the multitude of warrior-women standing before him, “name is Captain Steve Trevor, pilot, American Expeditionary Forces. Serial number 8141921. That’s all I’m at liberty to…” he winced and looked down at the rope holding him. “Assigned British Intelligence– what the hell is this thing?”

“The Lasso of Hestia compels you to reveal the truth,” one of the women responded. Steve gazed at her in disbelief. 

_ What in the name of…?  _

“But it’s  _ really  _ hot.”

“It is pointless, and painful, to resist.”

The woman at the head of the room asked, “What is your mission?”

“Whoever you are, you are in more danger than you think.”

“ _ What is your mission _ ?” She demanded. 

He tried to resist it, really tried, but in the end, he shouted, “I am a spy!” as though it was a secret he just couldn’t wait to get off his chest. 

And he figured he was screwed anyway, so he went ahead and told them everything. Everything about the Turks, everything about Ludendorff, Doctor Maru, the weapons. 

“But if I can get these notes back to British Intelligence in time, it could stop millions more from dying.  _ It could stop the war _ .” 

“War?” The young woman standing in front of the cloaked woman asked, “What war?”

Steve furrowed his brows. “The- the war. The War to End All Wars. Four years, 27 countries, 25 million dead. Soldiers and civilians. Innocent people, women and children  _ slaughtered _ . Their homes and villages looted and burned. Weapons far deadlier than you can… ever imagine. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen– it’s like the world’s gonna end.” 

There’s a long moment of daunting silence from the Amazons, and then– 

“What is that mark on your arm?” The question came from the woman in robes. Steve blinked. 

“Mark on my– ?” he looked down at his shirt where there’s a rip, most likely gained during the fight with the Germans. On his skin was a red and orange mark, blossoming in a straight line. He felt his jaw go slack and he was at a complete loss for words. “I’ve never had a soulmark before,” he murmured softly, the words escaping his mouth before he can even think about it. 

(Hippolyta glanced at Epione. Epione covered her mouth, her hand trembling. First Antiope... Were they to lose Diana as well? To her soulmate, of all things?) 

* * *

At first, Diana was blind to it.

She saw his bruises in the chambers. She did not notice that the red and orange bursts of color were present in the same places on her own skin; she was too concentrated on the war and what she must do about it.

He did not notice because he was too busy reeling over the facts in his head, too busy thinking,  _ they don’t know about the war, I need to get that book back, holy shit, when did I get a soulmark?  _

Neither of them noticed. 

Hippolyta and Epione did. They said nothing. 

* * *

Hippolyta did not blame her daughter's soulmate when it came time for Diana to leave. She knew her and she knew her spirit. Diana could not stand back while people died. Nonetheless, she feared her daughter would lose some part of herself in her journey (and she feared not being able to be there when it happened).

Even if she didn’t blame the blue-eyed man, she did wonder. She wondered if Diana would be happy with him. She wondered if she would find out the meanings of the colors on those bruises all too soon. 

Most of all, she wondered what he did to deserve her as his soulmate. 

* * *

 

The boat was full of questions and answers that neither Steve or Diana fully comprehended at the time. They were both out of depth, confused in a way neither had been before.

He thought she was drop-dead gorgeous if a bit weird. She thought his customs were odd but she could see Zeus creating a creature as beautiful as him. 

Neither of them thought they were soulmates.

* * *

Steve had known the moment he saw her marching across No Man's Land. Something just clicked in him and he thought  _ I would give my life for her, regardless if she needs it. _

He saw her beauty, her kindness, her  _ everything _ . And he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her smile. 

Diana didn't realize until they were bare before each other, shedding their armor like a second skin. She saw a bruise identical to his on her collarbone, all violent reds and oranges. She said nothing, only looked at him as though she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. 

(Steve thought, judging by the colors on her skin, that wouldn't be able to happen. He tried not to care but all he could see was the tired,  _ tired  _ look in his mom's eyes. He didn't want to do that to her.) 

* * *

“ _ I love you _ .”

His words and his parting had been a lightning strike, quick and bright against the dark night sky. The red and orange burst in the sky that he had left with was forever imprinted onto her back, a scar she could never erase. Presumably, it was where the explosion had hit first: the shoulders from the flame, the back from the shrapnel, and the hand from both. 

Because of this, she knew he shot the gun with his right hand. She wished she didn't know. 

* * *

After the war.

After the war, there was celebration. 

Trafalgar Square was filled with people, British flags waving and smiles wide across their faces. Diana's was smaller, a tear dripping down her cheek, but nobody paid much attention; she was just another widow in a sea full of them, lovingly tracing the picture of the man whose time was cut too short. 

(Some would say he had lived a long time for a soldier. _Three full years?_ _It's a damn miracle he survived that long, Ms. Prince. Especially an American– he must have been brave._ ) 

After the war, there was Etta and Sameer and Charlie and Chief. Etta took the most care of Diana and set her up with Steve's funds from what little of the will that went to Etta instead of his mother and sister. She got her a job as a secretary in the London Museum and set her on her path of life with a smile and tears in her eyes. “He would have loved to see you so comfortable here, darling.” 

Sameer stayed in London and kept in constant contact. He was the one who taught Diana to lie, and while it wasn't a skill she preferred to utilize, it was amusing to see her charm men into letting Sameer understudy for a theatre performance. “Oh, I could do it myself, Diana, but it's always nice to see them stutter like teenage boys when they see a woman as beautiful as you.”

Charlie left shortly after the war ended, content on facing his demons in Edinburgh. He gave Diana a smile and a hug, telling her, “Lassie, if ya ever need someone to sing for ya, I'm here.”

When Chief had left, he gave Diana a name and address. “I am going back to America,” he said. “Journey with me and visit his hometown.” He had tapped her hand, where the colors were still vibrant from Steve's death. “His mother would want to know.” 

* * *

His hometown was… not what she expected.

In a way, it saddened her that she didn’t know Steve well enough to know he grew up in a small town with a creek running opposite his house, which was a small farmhouse with fading yellow paint and a barn next to it. It was picture-perfect, especially the summer grass swaying gently in the wind under Diana and Chief’s feet. 

“I must leave you here,” Chief told Diana with a sad smile on his face. “We’ll travel back to London together, but for now, you have to make your own journey. You understand, right, Diana?”

She said nothing, only nodded and returned the smile. 

Her friend walked away from her and she took a deep breath, examining the daunting task before her. To knock on the door, to face rejection and disappointment. To smile at a woman who was most likely identical to her son, to tell the same woman that only the ghost of his smile remains. Regardless of her shaking hands, she raised a closed fist, tight as a coiled snake atop Medusa’s head, and knocked on the door. 

The woman who answered is only slightly shorter than Diana and wore clothes covered in dirt. Her frown was hidden behind years of laughter lines and Diana was so captivated by her vivid blue eyes that she barely registered the woman asking, “Excuse me, do I know you?” 

Diana blinked and remembered  _ manners _ just as Etta had taught her. She stuck her right hand out for the woman to shake and said, “Hello Mrs. Trevor, my name is Diana Prince.” 

It took a moment for those eyes, so like her son’s, to cloud with recognition. The woman was getting on in her years but the smile that lit up her face made her seem youthful. She clasped Diana’s hand in hers and shook it.  “Diana! Etta sent me a letter about you, told me you were visiting. She said you were a friend of- of Steve’s…” She trailed off at that, her smile fading a bit. 

“Gammy!” a young girl ran up to the woman and tackled her legs in a hug. “Who is this? Can she play tag with me and Matty and mommy?” 

“You know what, sweetheart? Why don’t you– go back and tell your mom to come inside, alright? You and Matthew can go over to Sara’s house and ask if she wants to play with you.” 

“Okay, Gammy. But who is she?”

A pause. Mrs. Trevor took a sharp breath in and then– “A friend of your Uncle Stevie. Go on, now.” The child frowned a bit before sprinting away. “Come on in, Diana.” 

“Thank you,” she responded. 

They walked inside and it was just like the outside– worn down but homey. Light filtered through the dust particles and brightened the blue-green walls. Diana, after living in dreary old London for the past 8 months, found it to be a welcome change of pace, the colors reminding her more of Themyscira than London ever would.

(Or perhaps. 

Perhaps it was his mother’s eyes. Perhaps they looked so much like his, and his had always looked like they were somewhere between the sea and the sky; dark yet impossibly bright. 

Or perhaps Diana was just grieving her home and the man she loved.) 

“Sorry, darling, it’s a bit of a mess. Steve’s sister, who you’ll be meeting in a moment, is living here for now with her two kids. You just met Alicia, actually. Her brother’s name is Matthew.” She pulled out a chair in the dining room table and sat down, her hands clasped over the wood. 

“Mom?” A female voice sounded out as a young woman entered the room. When she saw Diana her brown doe-eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “That’s Diana?” 

“Yes, Rene, now sit down and be polite,” her mother chastised. Rene paid no attention. 

“You’re  _ gorgeous,”  _ His sister said bluntly. Her blonde hair curled around her shoulders and framed her face neatly. 

Diana raised her eyebrow. “Yes, and so was your brother.” 

She stared at Diana in silence for a moment before sitting down and nodding, a small grin forming on her lips. “A match made in heaven, then.” There is nothing biting about her words, only sad. For a moment, her eyes drift down to Diana’s hands. One was red and orange, scarred from the death of their son. The other held their father’s watch. “Dad’s watch…” she breathed. “How–?”

Diana smile was all melancholy and no true happiness. “He gave it to me right before he died.” 

“How did it happen?” Mrs. Trevor said, leaning forward. Her gray hair was pinned up in a messy bun and her eyes were racked with emotion. Diana looked down, avoiding her gaze.

“The Germans… some of them didn’t wish for the Armistice to be signed. They had this weapon, a gas. Steve and the men we were with– we liberated a town named Veld. Then they released the gas on the village and they were all dead. Steve followed the Germans to a nearby air base and they were loading the gas all onto one plane. Steve knew they were going to release it on the Front and he was the only pilot, so he…” Diana winced. She raised her right hand. “He shot at the gas canisters when he was in the air. I expect that either the burns or shrapnel hit his hand first.” 

Next to her, Rene gasped out a sob. Her mother stared straight ahead, her face blank. “He died a hero, then?” Her voice was low and quiet. 

Diana looked down at her hands, clasped on the table, and nodded.  “I am sorry.” 

“How were you his soulmate?” Rene asked, her cheeks stained with tears. “He said he never had a soulmark. How were you his soulmate?” 

Diana swallowed the lump in her throat. “Where I come from, it is different.” 

Rene furrowed her brows, her eyes still bright with tears. “What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?” 

Diana only smiled. “I hope you never have to find out.” 

After that, they refrained from asking further questions.

* * *

Diana stayed.

The Trevor household was kind and welcoming. She had nowhere to be until Chief got back (and that wouldn’t be for a month or two, by his estimation) and so she stayed with them, building relationships with the family of the man she loved. 

Rene, a single mother as of 1917, was strong-willed and open-hearted. She showered Diana with love, accepting her into her little family. Matty and Alicia immediately accepted her into their games of tag and Diana taught them how to ride horses the  _ right  _ way, with the wind blowing through their hair and their mother screaming at them  _ oh for God’s sake, please slow down!  _

Mrs. Trevor soon became Joanne. What childhood stories about Steve that Rene didn’t share with Diana were shared by Joanne over a cup of terrible coffee. She taught Diana how to help out around the farm and took her on errands, keeping her updated on American politics and educating her in what parts of man’s world that Etta didn’t teach her. 

Diana was lucky. They accepted her easily and lovingly. 

They did not ask any more questions about Steve’s lack of a soulmark. They did not have to; they got their answer sooner rather than later. 

It had been a gorgeous day. The children were taking a road trip with Diana, Joanne, and their mother to the market just down the street. When inside, it had been fairly empty other than a scraggly-looking man shopping and another man behind the counter, looking fairly bored.  

Diana had been skeptical about the man that was shopping from the beginning. Some instinct in her told her  _ this isn’t right _ and before she even knew she was doing it, she pushed the children behind a shelf and started striding toward the man, her fists clenched and ready for battle. 

His hand was shaking.

_ He had a gun.  _

Diana wasn’t wearing her bracers.

“Diana?” she heard Rene’s uncertain voice call out behind her. 

“Stay down,” Diana responded, steel cutting into her voice. The man stood with his back to her. His shoulders trembled and crazed whimpering sounds could be heard from under his breath. “Sir?” He didn’t respond. She slowly and gently put her hand on his shoulder.

Chaos. 

He broke into action quickly, grabbing Diana’s arm and attempting to twist it. She kicked his knees out from under him and he cried out in pain before he raised the arm holding the gun. Despite Diana’s placating words and pleads, he starting shooting. She grabbed his shooting arm and aimed it toward the sky and–  _ one, two, three  _ shots were fired. 

(She wanted to  _ help _ him. She said so. Why would he not let her help?

Later, the man at the counter would call it shellshock. He would call him insane and weak for fighting a war that was already over.)

Diana wrenched the gun from his hand and, with as minimal damage possible, punched him to knock him out. He fell back and Diana caught him just before he hit the ground. She set him down. 

“Diana!” Joanne cried out. She ran up to her, looking down at the man at her feet. Then she gasped. “Diana, your arm!” She took the Princess’ arm gently, carefully avoiding a graze that came from a bullet. 

“Oh,” the younger woman said belatedly. “Do not worry, it will heal.” Joanne frowned. 

“What is that supposed to mean–?” She looked down at her arm and realized the wound was already closing up, leaving behind nothing, not even a scratch. A soft gasp escaped her mouth. “What are you?” 

Diana didn’t respond. 

* * *

At home, she told them the story of the Amazons, of their retreat from the world. She spoke of a  German plane that crashed off the coast of her island. She told them about pulling the pilot to the shores and about his first word to her being one of amazement.

Rene had laughed at that. It was a watery laugh, with tears shining in her eyes. 

Diana told them their story from beginning to end, and she cried at the end. She cried for a man that she could have spent a lifetime with.

She cried for the time that they never had.

* * *

Over time, the colors on her skin changed. They changed to the color of Steve’s eyes during World War 2, back when she was desperately trying to remember his face and what, exactly, it was that she was fighting for. In 2017, they changed to the grey color of the only photo she had left of him.

She had forgotten his eyes and the sound of his voice. 

(She would never forget him.)

In 2018, she found the League. It took time, but they became her family. 

She still isn’t sure what to make of 2019. 

* * *

**_19:00_ **

**_05/18/19_ **

**_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania_ **

“Diana, you’re sure you can handle this Shazam figure by yourself? Well, of course, you can. Still–”

“Bruce, I am an ageless demigoddess. I can handle an untrained wizard.” She rolls her eyes as she adjusts the phone on her ear. “Besides, he is no foe. Superman met him, remember?” 

“Superman went to a school to help a disabled kid out. Just because he does charity doesn’t mean he’s actually a good guy.” Diana snorts and Bruce sighs on the other end. “Fine. Don’t die, Barry needs his surrogate mom.”

“What Barry needs is to restock his supply of 5-Hour Energy after you took it away from him,” Diana snarks. 

Bruce yells from the other end, “Like hell– !” but she hangs up before he can continue to mother-hen her. 

She slips her phone into her pocket. Philadelphia is a beautiful city and the scene from the Rocky Steps enhances the lights to make it seem more lively. 

Shazam, through numerous reports, frequents this place often. She figures it’s her best bet at finding the elusive man and, not only that, the Art Museum is a good excuse for going to America. She needs to tell her secretary at the Louvre  _ something _ about where she’s going. 

She smiles up at the sky. She can’t see the stars– one of the many, many things she doesn’t like about cities– but it is still beautiful. 

(One learns to see the beauty in meaningless things after a hundred years.) 

Her reverie is interrupted by two young boys walking up the steps, laughter bright in their voices. “You know that I’m right, though, Billy! Superman is faster than the Flash.  _ Definitely _ .” 

The boy named Billy grunts through a cheesesteak. “He isn’t. The Flash’s whole thing is being fast. He’s got to be faster!” 

Diana, from her spot on the steps, smiles at them. “Wonder Woman is faster than both of them.”

The boy next to Billy shakes his head. “No way. She’s not a goddess– well, maybe she is but– she can’t be faster than Superman.” 

She chuckles lightly. “Shouldn’t you be rooting for your hometown superhero as well?” 

“Eh, he’s not that fast,” the boy says. 

“Hey!” Billy scowls, offended somehow. He turns his gaze to Diana. “Sha- I mean, he’s super cool and probably faster than them, he just hasn’t raced against them yet.” 

“Ah,” Diana responds, clearly amused. 

Billy looks at the other boy. “Freddy, we seem like complete dorks.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Freddy counters. Billy rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, ma’am,” he says. 

“That’s alright, I appreciate the company. I’ve been waiting here for a while.” 

Billy looks at Freddy with a mischievous smirk on his face and Freddy doesn’t even care to acknowledge it. “Who are you waiting for? Boyfriend?” 

Diana laughs. “No. Actually, you two might be able to help me out. Do either of you happen to know Shazam?” 

Freddy’s arm shoots up. “I do!” 

“So do I. I could go get him right now, actually,” Billy says. 

Diana smiles. “Wonderful.” She pulls back her jacket to reveal the Lasso of Hestia tied onto her belt. “Tell him a friend wants to say hi.”

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Freddy breathes. “You-You're Wonder Woman!” His voice reaches a higher octave and is laced with excited laughter. “Oh my god.  _ Oh my god. _ ” 

(In all truth, she was expecting the boys to run away or ask for a picture. 

She did not expect the taller boy to actually get Shazam.) 

* * *

**_19:22_ **

**_05/18/19_ **

**_Gotham, New Jersey_ **

Alfred looks at the sensors on the computer, concerned. “Master Wayne, there seems to be some sort of… temporal activity in Philadelphia.” Bruce looks up from his Ramen Noodles and frowns. 

“Where’s Barry?” 

* * *

**_19:23_ **

**_05/18/19_ **

**_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania_ **

For once in his life, Barry could confidently say that it was not his fault. Not his fault there was a giant fucking portal opening up over the city. Not his fault, not his fault. 

All he wanted to do was go to Philly to get a cheesesteak. Iris wanted one and the one good thing about having a boyfriend that could run halfway across the country in minutes flat was that he could get a cheesesteak from the home of cheesesteaks. 

So Barry went to go get her a cheesesteak, thinking that,  _ hey, despite the fact I can run at mach speed and just ran halfway across the country to get my girlfriend dinner, my life is pretty normal.  _

God, he was so stupid. 

The portal is gigantic, by the way, and looming over Philly like the Dora Balloon at the Macy’s Day Parade. 

He’s always hated that stupid balloon. 

So Barry runs to the center of where it’s forming, naturally. He finds himself at the Rocky Steps (and uh, wow, totally the wrong time, but they’re cool) and in front of Diana, some dude with tights, and a random curly-haired kid. 

“Wonder Woman,” he says, adjusting his mask over his head. “Is there a reason for the giant hole in the sky?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. Could you have anything to do with it?” 

“I’m just here to get my girlfriend a cheesesteak,” Barry shrugs. “I’ll ask Batman.” He taps the lightning bolt on his ear and says as soon as Bruce picks up, “So, there’s a giant portal in Philly that I definitely didn’t cause.”

“I am aware, Barry. But it’s giving off temporal energy– any chance there’s anything there that shouldn’t be?” 

Barry looks around. “Hey uh, guys,” he says, “keep on the lookout for something that probably doesn’t belong in 2019.” 

Diana looks around as well, taking note of a father gathering his kids in his arms and yelling, “That’s it, we’re moving back to Gotham!” 

“Nothing so far,” she provides. 

“Hey, uh, how about a car that looks like it’s older than my foster dad?” The kid with curly hair asks. 

“That would do it,” Barry nods. “Where?”

The kid points up. 

And there it is– a Model T plummeting toward the ground at breakneck speed. Other time-traveling objects that come from the portal seem to be a Mary Poppins-style lamp-post, a pair of hideous pink leg warmers, and a–  _ is that a dog? Oh, fuck, that’s a dog _ . 

Diana is in the sky before Barry can say a word, grabbing the dog with one hand and holding the Model T with the other, slowly controlling its descent. 

Shazam follows not long after, grabbing the lamp-post and bringing it down to the ground. 

“Is there any way to make this thing go away, Batman?” Barry shouts as he runs out of the way of a Nazi U-boat, delivering the kid next to him out of the path of destruction as well. 

“It would help if we knew how it started. It looks like this thing just  _ appeared _ . Any civilian injuries?” 

“Not yet,” Barry reports. “But there will be soon if this thing doesn’t stop spitting out freakin’ U-Boats!” 

“Can your friends at Star Labs help us out at all?” Bruce’s voice starts breaking up. 

“You can try– I can barely hear you,” Barry tries, but his comm has stopped working altogether. “Damn,” he hisses. 

* * *

Diana isn’t having any better luck. First, it was just the dog and the car, but now, several other items are falling from the sky. She’s trying her best; with Shazam and Barry by her side it’s better, but if this situation escalates there’s not much more they can do.

At one point, during the chaos of blue lights echoing throughout the dark night, Diana turns from saving the Oval from yet another boat. 

She sees three things at that moment:

  1. Three women with bony faces and wild black hair. The first woman’s eyes are green, the second woman’s blue, and the third’s brown, almost pitch black. They float in the air mere meters away from Diana and hold a beautiful golden thread collectively. Diana recognizes them as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos– the Moirai.
  2. A fourth woman with gorgeous dirty-blonde hair, a somewhat plump figure, and a wide, stunning smile. She looks at Diana through warm navy-blue eyes. If Diana didn’t know better, she would say she’s looking at Aphrodite. 
  3. The dog that she had saved earlier, a German Shepard with kind brown orbs, barks in warning at Diana. (She still does not see the Pine tree that is hurtling toward her at full speed.)



The tree is not what disables her consciousness. It hinders her flight and she’s close enough to the ground for that to be a major problem. She lands, trips, and hits her head on something _.  _ The world around her his black before she can even think to call for Barry. 

* * *

_ “Steven Rockwell Trevor, if you don’t get your ass over here immediately I will–” _

_ “Uncle Stevie!” _

_ “Captain!”  _

_ “Steve...” _

_ “Agent 47!” _

Wait, what?

“Agent 47!” The voice snaps again. Steve blinks, his eyes adjusting to the light. He squints up at the male figure before him. 

Before he can think about forming actual, coherent words, his mouth says, “General Lane?” 

The man raises a brow. “At least his recognition is still intact. Mind telling me why you passed out in the middle of a briefing?” 

Steve regards the man carefully. Broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and an army uniform that looks nothing like any army uniform Steve’s ever seen– except, is that true? Some distant part of his brain says,  _ wait, I know this guy, I’ve been here before  _ but he’s both confused and scared shitless because  _ shouldn’t I be dead?  _

_ “ _ Sorry, Sir,” Steve finally provides. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “The situation in Morocco, yeah.” He rambles off a list of information that somehow means everything and nothing to him at once, his head feeling like California in an earthquake. 

Five to ten minutes later, a young redhead opens the door. “Trevor, there’s trouble in Philly. Calling in Team 7.” Steve stands and looks at Lane with a smile that’s somewhere between relief and a full-on smirk. 

“Have a nice day, General Lane!” He bids, leaving the door to swing shut behind him.

(Steve Trevor is delighted. He hates debriefing and he hates General Lane. This gets him out of both.

Steve Trevor is confused. What the fuck is happening?)

* * *

“Oh good, she's awake! Geez, I didn't even know you could get knocked out like that.” Barry sits back from her lying position on the ground of the Oval and sighs.

Diana looks up at the sparkling night sky, most specifically, where the portal used to be. “Where did it go?” 

“Where did what- oh. Yeah, we don't really know. The D.E.O. came to help, though, so we were able to keep all the civilians from being crushed.” 

“Uh, lady, if you don't mind me saying- um, well. Before all this happened, your hand… was it a soulmark?” Diana's head snap's up at Shazam's inquiry. She narrows her eyes. 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” 

He looks down at her hand in awe. “Because it's… it's gone now.” 

Diana sharply breathes in before looking at her hand- tan and spotless. 

(Not even the faded gray that is all that's left of his smile.) 

For more than a moment, it's hard to breathe.  _ Gods, what does this mean? What does this mean?  _ She turns her hand around in front of her eyes, back and forth until she's sure it's not a trick of the light. 

“My shoulders,” she says. “Check my-” She's not wearing her armor (forgone for the imminent danger they were facing, though she had wrapped her face in a scarf) so she takes off her jacket and pulls down the collar of her shirt to reveal-

Well. Nothing.

“Has this happened to any Amazon before?” Barry asks, concern written across his face. 

“No. I'm the only Amazon that had a soulmark.” 

She's breathless. Astonishingly,  She's also breathing too hard. 

_ His death is the only thing I have left of him.  _

She doesn't register Barry looking up to a D.E.O. Agent, cursing under his breath. “One sec, let me deal with these guys. Shazam, stay with her, please.” 

Shazam nods and leans down awkwardly to Diana, speaking to her in as soft a voice as possible. Barry moves on to the D.E.O. Agent, a black-haired woman with dark sunglasses, despite the night sky. 

“Do you have any idea what happened here?” The woman asks. 

Barry shakes his head. “No idea.” 

She sighs, her short bob cut floating down around her face. Her British accent cuts through the tense air, disappointment ringing clear in her tone. “Shame. It means Lane is going to have a fit-- TREVOR!” She pauses a moment and Barry furrows his brow.  _ Why is she--  _ “STEVEN ROCKWELL TREVOR, GET OVER HERE!” 

_ Steve Trevor… how do I know that name?  _

“I'm coming, Candy, I'm coming!” A voice calls out through the wreckage and somewhat-injured civilians. He stumbles through, panting, his blonde hair matted onto his face, and sighs. “You didn't have to yell my name to the high heavens, you know.” 

“What are you so out of breath for?”

“A dumbshit thought messing around with an artillery shell the size of me was a good idea. It was a World War 1 shell and definitely  _ not  _ a good idea.” 

Candy snorts. “Alright. Flash, meet Steve Trevor. You two, figure out what the hell happened here. I'll go talk to General Lane.” 

“Alright, boss,” Steve says, a grin spread over his face. 

She nods. “Director!” Another agent calls. 

“Duty calls, boys. See you soon!” She bids them farewell and sets off at a steady pace to the agents needing her help. 

Steve sticks his hand out. “Honor to meet you, Flash. I hear you're good with the whole science thing.”

* * *

Steve is, decidedly, completely okay with this situation.

Sure, his family is dead and he's completely alone in that part of his consciousness was just launched a hundred years into the future– but hey, he's  _ alive _ . For a World War 1 pilot with little to no expectation of the future, that's amazing. He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  

And the war is over. 

That means Diana won. 

That means Diana  _ lived _ . 

And hopefully, that means she was happy for whatever life she got to live. 

So here he is, solving the mystery behind a swirling blue portal with a man that can run faster than time. And oh, look! There's even a cute German Shepherd. 

The dog follows them around shamelessly, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He seems particularly attached to Steve, who throws a piece of debris for him to fetch every once in a while (and always has dog treats on him, no matter the situation). 

“Steve Trevor,” Barry says at one point. It sounds like he's testing the name, rolling it around his tongue and through his mind. “Where do I know your name from?” 

Steve cracks a smirk. “I must be pretty cool if you know my name,” he teases. 

Barry rolls his eyes. “Says the guy who carries dog treats around on a daily basis.”

Barry thinks for a moment. He's still completely sure that he knows this guy somehow, he just can't place it. And it's weird because all the people he knows are either from work (and he's almost certain that the government operative has not been arrested at the Central City Police Department anytime lately), the Wests, or people from school (he already asked; Steve grew up in Iowa, not Central City). 

Other than that, everyone he knows is from the League. And, well, he hasn't really met any of their friends, just them. Well, that's not true: Diana and Clark had gone through great lengths to introduce to him Lois Lane, a reporter who could possibly help dig up some dirt on his mother's case. 

_ Diana…  _

_ “Did your Steve Trevor tell you that, too?” _

“You’re the– oh my God, you’re the dead boyfriend. The dead  _ soulmate. _ ”

Steve’s head snaps up and his brows furrow. “Pardon?” 

* * *

When Diana sees Steve again.

She touches his face and the first touch, as opposed to the hurt, leaves streaks of pink on his face. It remains until the end of his life (which will be the same day her life ends, a gracious gift given by the newly arisen Aphrodite), as do the white marks that he leaves on Diana when he runs his hands over her arms. 

When Diana sees Steve again, their eyes are full of tears as they laugh in disbelief. 

* * *

 

There was a beautiful future out there. 

It consists of sunlight filtering through a window in an apartment in Paris and the light blanketing a king sized bed with two people in it. A German Shepherd is curled up next to the bed, gray streaking his black and brown fur. 

The peace is interrupted by two children running in, all dangling limbs and hushed whispers. One child has blue eyes and blonde hair and the other has brown eyes and blonde hair. They jump onto their bed to tackle their parents, who sit upright with a jolt of laughter. Steve takes the girl with brown eyes into her arms and carries her to the kitchen. The German Shepherd stands up, stretching arthritis out of his bones, and then follows them into the kitchen. Diana tries her best to ignore Percy hitting her with a pillow but ends up getting out of bed anyway, walking after Steve and Rhea. 

On the table, there are Wax Flowers and Gardenias in a clear vase. Steve sets out plates of pancakes and fruit. The German Shepherd, Iris, waits under the table for the children to throw her fruit (as Percy gets ready to throw an apple slice down, Diana shakes her head. “Anything but apple slices, sweetheart. She can’t eat those.”) 

Diana’s armor sits in the corner, worn from use and ready to be worn again. (Their world is perfect. The world is not.)

There was a beautiful future out there.m

It’s their reality, now. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a monster to write. 21 pages on google docs and i began it back in early april. anyways, the idea for a soulmark fic just wouldn't stop bugging at me and... this happened. it kinda got away from me, if you couldn't tell. Hope you enjoy, regardless.


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